


the ache in my chest

by autumnchills



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Heart Syndrome, Buck Centric, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Heartbreak, Hospitalization, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Lawsuit (9-1-1 TV), Sad, Sad Evan "Buck" Buckley, Sinkholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnchills/pseuds/autumnchills
Summary: He feels hurt, most of all, but he also feels rage. A blinding rage that consumes him.Eddie is his best friend, and it’s okay if they can never be more, but he’ll be damned if he lets him slip between his fingers like he’d let his last best friend all those years ago.AKA the fic in which Buck and Eddie don't make up after Buck's first shift back and it only leads to more hurt
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 643
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	the ache in my chest

Buck gets the call on Monday at the ass crack of dawn. He almost wishes that he didn’t get it— wonders if he'd be better off not knowing. 

That’s ridiculous, he thinks, because there are some people that you never stop caring or wondering about, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve talked to them.

Very few people had a spot in Buck’s heart like that, and it’s something he’s proud of. When Buck let people in, they left, and he got hurt— exactly like what he was experiencing with Eddie now.

When Buck first met Eddie, he had no way of seeing the friendship that would blossom between them. Even more unexpected were the feelings that grew from that friendship. It’d been over a decade since he’d let someone into his life like that, and he had foolishly let it happen because he was convinced that what happened before wouldn’t happen in his adult life.

He was badly mistaken.

It’d been over a decade since someone took up space in his life like Eddie Diaz had in the last year, and now that person was dead. 

Walking into the station for yet another day of work always feels like a gift to Buck. Ever since his accident, there are fewer things he takes for granted, and this job is one. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always stop the bad days from getting to him. Today is one of those days.

The first one to notice his mood is Hen. He tries to hide it, but he’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, so the best he can do is try to keep the emotions he does show in check.

Buck knows that Eddie sees it, too, but with tensions still high between the two of them, neither approach each other. 

It’s with a sickening twist in his chest that he realizes how much now feels like a time before. 

He just narrowly avoids Bobby catching on as well. 

Their first call is something they haven’t seen in awhile— a sinkhole. It’s actually a bit outside their zoning, but with closer firehouses already on other calls, they’re the next best thing.

Bobby calls out to them when they get to the scene. Despite the cold shoulder that he’s been getting from his best friend, he and Eddie still make one of the best teams because they know each other the most and can anticipate each other’s moves, so the captain puts them together on the recovery while Hen and Chimney take care of the injured people that are already out of harm’s way.

The house is a small one, but the hole isn’t, having already consumed the house next-door and slowly working on this one. Establishing the hole’s perimeter was no problem, so Buck and Eddie are harnessed and anchored, but the people stuck inside aren’t. Half of the house is already gone, and though the other half is going a lot slower, there’s still enough damage that it’s not exactly easy to get to the people who need them. 

The first person they get out is a kid, no older than high school age, and only minutes later they retrieve the kid’s dog. Not long after, they have the parents from the front living room.

For a moment, they think that’s everyone— the family had said it was just them— but before Bobby can give the order to get out, he radios in again. 

“Buckley, Diaz,” he calls.

Having the most stability on the sloping wood floors, Eddie responds. “We getting out now, Cap?” 

“Not quite. The kid just told us that he had a friend over. The parents had no idea. He’d be in the bathroom.”

Buck turns his head, trying to find the door. Eddie doesn’t seem to spot it either. “The bathroom is…?”

“Past the family room,” is the captain’s regretful response. “I can’t order you guys to go there.”

Buck shakes his head at Eddie. “We got this, right?” 

Eddie nods and radios back, “Understood, Cap. We’re proceeding to the bathroom.” He grabs his line with his hand once more, but before he can take a step, the ground shifts again. 

The house groans like a ship sinking, and with a sudden snap, the ground beneath Buck falls.

Buck can barely see it, too busy smacking into the floor beneath him and holding onto his line for dear life. When the groaning stops, he looks up to take in the damage. He hears Eddie calling his name, and over the radio, Bobby yells, too. 

“I’m good!” he shouts out, then hears Eddie relay the message. “Landed hard, but I’m okay!”

Buck gathers himself off of the ground as quickly as possible and looks to where the ground sunk. There are less than ten feet between him and Eddie, but just a couple away from him, the floor had given out and fallen about a meter, and the roof is caved in, making the gap to get out about that tall as well.

He peeks his head out near the gap and spies Eddie. 

“Still here,” he calls out again. “I’m going in,” he says. “Family room is tilted but not so much that I can’t get back up with the kid’s friend.”

“Buck is proceeding,” Eddie relays.

“You’re our eyes in there,” Bobby responds. “If it’s not looking good, you make the call and pull Buck out, with or without the kid.”

Eddie stares at Buck for a long moment. For a second, Buck thinks he might say something to him, something beyond the minimal work chat. But then Eddie turns his face down toward where his radio is clipped and gives a flat, “Understood.”

Holding tight to his line, Buck shakes off the moment and proceeds toward the bathroom. The floor rests at a slope, and every now and then the house creaks, but his shoes have a good grip and this part of the house doesn’t seem to be giving away any time soon.

“What's it looking like out there?” he asks into his radio.

It’s Chimney who responds. “Like if you could see it, you would never have gone forward.” A distinct popping of gum crackles through the radio before it cuts out. 

Buck reaches the family room in a matter of moments, and it only takes one look to know it’s too late. Though the front is intact, the back part is crumbled to pieces, and there are holes in the structure. 

The bathroom isn’t even there.

Before he officially calls it, he looks around for any sign of life. He looks for limbs— below, above, and around furniture. He listens for anyone, calling out a few times. 

With a heavy sigh, he tugs on his line. “I’m coming back up,” he radios in. The words feel like tar flowing out of his mouth, thick and weighing him down.

“No sign of the kid?” Bobby asks, voice obviously lowered.

“Bathroom’s gone, Cap. No one in the remaining rooms.”

“Alright. Pull him out, Eddie.”

He’s out of there in no time, but it feels like forever. Buck answers routine questions for Chimney as the man double checks him for a concussion, but he can barely pay attention as he watches Bobby talk to the mom and her boy.

“Buck,” Chimney calls his attention to him again. “C’mon, man. Pay attention.”

He turns back to Chimney with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I just—”

He’s cut off by a yell and multiple shouts. Everyone snaps their head to the source and finds the kid struggling against Bobby and another firefighter. The kid is sobbing and fighting against their hold, trying to push past them to the house.

“You don’t get— You don’t understand!” the boy yells. 

His mom says something, and he shakes his head. Buck swears he can see his entire body trembling from where he sits. 

“You don’t get it!” he screams again, voice cracking. “I loved him, Ma!” His mother steps back in surprise. “I loved him!”

The boy’s cries echo in his ears the entire ride back to the station.

One casualty in a mess like that isn’t uncommon, so the rest of the team is seemingly unphased by the call. Buck doesn’t hold it against them or see them as less human because it’s one thing to feel for the people you couldn’t help and another to feel what they’re feeling. The longer they dwell on it, the unhealthier it is.

But Buck can’t let it go. It’s not even close to the worst of losses that he’s seen in his career, but today, it hits home a little harder.

The thought of your world being literally ripped out from underneath you without warning… it’s haunting, in a way that Buck is all too familiar with.

Hen’s giving him the same look she gave him this morning, but he pointedly ignores it. He fights back the tears that are threatening to spill and keeps an unwavering stare out the window. 

“Everything okay back there?” Bobby calls from the front. “You guys are quiet.”

“I—” Hen starts but stops herself. Buck knows she wants to say yes because he wants her to, but she also doesn’t like dismissing anyone’s feelings. She’s never been one to let people stew in their own feelings. Hen knows firsthand how dangerous that can be.

“I don’t know,” she finally says.

Bobby looks back at them from the passenger seat. “What?” he asks her.

“Buck—” she starts, glancing at him.

He glares at her as all eyes turn to him, including Eddie’s from across the bench. “I’m fine,” he mutters. 

“You’re not,” Eddie counters, though he doesn’t even glance at Buck. 

Buck turns his icy gaze on to him. “So, we’re talking outside of calls again?” he asks. “I didn’t realize you still paid enough attention to notice if something was up.”

Regret flashes in his eyes, but his mouth snaps shut, refusing to say anything else.

“You— you guys aren’t talking?” Chimney asks hesitantly. 

“Not my decision,” Buck snaps, folding his arms.

Eyes turn to Eddie now, and the man shakes his head and stares out the window at his side.

“Is this about the lawsuit?” Chimney questions. And when neither of them responds, he gapes. “He’s been back for over a week,” he says to Eddie. “C’mon, you guys are attached at the hip. This has to be some kind of prank.”

It’s not, Buck thinks bitterly, though he wishes it was. He wishes this was some joke that he could break character from at his own command.

Aside from when they’re on the job, his best friend pretends like he doesn’t exist. Buck pretends that it doesn't break his heart.

He doesn’t even realize that they’re back at the station until everyone is getting up and exiting the truck. But he can’t make himself move.

Outside the window, he spies the team walking away— Eddie walking away— and it feels all too much like before— like a time where he’d fallen in love with his best friend and been left in the dust with no explanation. It was a time of constant heartache and feeling like someone had created a sinkhole in the middle of his life. 

He can’t do this. He can’t do this again.

Buck feels like he shakes the world with the force in which he slams the door of the firetruck open. It sure grabs the attention of his team, if not the whole firehouse, because everyone is turning to look at him.

He feels hurt, most of all, but he also feels rage. A blinding rage that consumes him.

Eddie is his best friend, and it’s okay if they can never be more, but he’ll be damned if he lets him slip between his fingers like he’d let his last best friend all those years ago.

“I’m not going to keep doing this,” Buck yells. Eddie must know he’s talking to him because he takes a step forward to indicate that he’s listening. 

“You all want to know what’s up?” Buck asks then. “I got a call this morning. A friend of a friend of another fucking friend and so on is telling me that my old best friend died.” Buck hears some murmurs around the station, but he doesn’t pay any attention to who it is and doesn’t really care about who’s listening. All that matters is that Eddie is.

“Now see, the thing is that I found out through all those friends of friends because my best friend cut me out of his life and it sucked. He never told me why and he never let me get the chance to make things right because I never knew what I did wrong. I was  _ dead to him _ and honestly, man, it’s starting to feel like the same thing is happening with us.”

Eddie’s mouth hangs open like he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

“I get that I hurt you when I couldn’t be there for you,” Buck continues. “I’m sorry about that, and I’ve said it a few times now. But while everyone else has forgiven me, you’re just not giving me anything to work with here, and it’s—” Buck cuts himself off, a sudden wave of emotions taking up space like a rock in his throat. “I don’t know what I have to do to fix our friendship, but I’ll do it if you  _ just tell me _ .”

Once again, Eddie looks at a loss for words. Even Bobby is frozen just five feet away from him, staring on with no clue whether he should let Buck keep spilling his guts or force them to go take this somewhere else.

Buck takes a few steps toward Eddie. 

“Literally just say anything, Eds,” he nearly cries. “‘Cause I can’t keep doing this. When this happened to me years ago it tore me up bad. It tore me up so much inside that I couldn’t stop wondering what I did wrong for years. I couldn’t stop  _ hating _ myself for years.”

The resounding silence does him over, and the sob that breaks free from his chest is so loud that it startles everyone.

“Eddie, I fucking love you, man. You’re my best friend, and if I can’t have you as  _ at least _ that, I don’t think the ache in my chest will ever go away. I—” Buck clutches at his chest, where it aches so strongly that he can feel it in his whole body. “I physically can’t do this again, Eddie. I can’t stand to have my world walk away from me if there was something I could do to fix it.”

The sobs wrack through his body so hard that he swears he’s shaking. 

Then breaths become harder to take.

Then the world swallows him whole.

Buck wakes up with a gasp and his eyes dart around. He’s woken up in a hospital enough times to know where he is, but it doesn’t stop panic from settling in.

His heart must be doing something funny because the monitor beeps a little louder than it’d been before and a doctor comes rushing through the door. 

Bobby is right on her tail.

“Bobby,” Buck calls out, voice raspy from its disuse. “Bobby, what happened?”

He lifts his hand to reach for him and Bobby is by his side in a second, grabbing hold of it. The doctor hovers, but with his heart rate already returning to normal levels, she doesn’t need to do anything.

“That’s what the doctors are trying to figure out, kiddo. You collapsed at the station.”

_ The station _ , Buck thinks.

“Did I actually spill my guts out like that in front of the entire house?” he asks. 

Bobby frowns.

Buck laughs as tears immediately pour over. “I’m such an idiot,” he says.

“Hey, no,” Bobby shakes his head. “None of that. You are not an idiot for feeling things, Buck.”

Buck just looks away, turning his gaze to the doctor.

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asks.

The doctor glances at him as if to double check it’s her he’s speaking to.

“Well, we’re ruling out different things right now. Your blood work looks good, but your cardiac enzymes are slightly elevated.”

“A heart attack?” Bobby guesses with confusion.

“Unlikely at his age and with how physically fit he is. I understand he had some clots over a month ago, but I’m not seeing that as a possible cause right now. However, we are going to schedule an echocardiogram as soon as possible for him to be sure.”

Bobby nods, and a few seconds later Buck does, too. He turns to Bobby again. 

“Is Maddie—”   


“On her way,” Bobby finishes for him. “We called her as soon as you were loaded up in the ambulance.” Buck nods.

“Do you want me to get anyone else for you right now?” Bobby offers then. “The team is in the waiting room. It’s only one at a time right now and I got first because I’m your emergency contact.”

Buck mulls it over. He wants nothing more than to see Eddie, but the ache in his chest is a physical and very real thing now— he’s not sure he can withstand the awaiting rejection, or worse, the lack of response altogether.

“No,” Buck answers him. “I just want to be alone right now.”

His answer comes to him later, after three other tests and a procedure that Buck refuses to let anyone be by his side for.

Broken heart syndrome, he’s told. 

“So, I’m not dying?” Buck asks.

The doctor shakes her head. 

“No heart attack?” He questions next. “Heart disease? Clots? Nothing?”

The doctor shakes her head the whole time.

“It’s rare, but it can come from extreme stress. It mimics the symptoms of a heart attack. With one week of bed rest and an additional one to two more without anything physically or emotionally taxing, you should be okay to return to work.”

Buck lets his head fall back onto the pillow as the words sink in. An intern flutters around, connecting wires to machines and the doctor does something on a computer in the corner of the room. 

Officially having a relatively clean bill of health is relieving, a weight off his chest that he didn’t know he’d had. All that his mind has been focused on for the past few hours was Eddie.

He wants so bad to speak to him, but he’s scared. He’s so so scared. 

So he lets himself cry. He lies there in heartache and stares at the ceiling as tears pool in his eyes and drip down the side of his face.

He can’t be bothered to care who sees him. 

“Are you experiencing pain?” The intern speaks up suddenly from next to him. His eyes are wide and his hands hover above Buck. 

Buck shakes his head, but tears continue to fall anyway.

“Not the physical kind,” he whispers. 

The intern’s eyes soften with a new glossiness to them. 

The doctor clears her throat to speak then. 

“Well, we’d like to keep you overnight for observation, but you should be okay to head out in the morning. If you have any questions or anything changes, feel free to grab a nurse and I’ll get here as soon as possible.”

The doctor flips some papers over on her clipboard and smiles at them as she leaves the room.

“Do you want me to grab any of your friends?” the intern asks him. “Some are still there.” 

Some. 

He doesn’t want to know who left. He figures Hen would have; she has a kid and wife to get home too. Even Bobby might have gone now. Buck knows that even Eddie should be headed home if he hasn’t already because of Christopher, but a piece of him really hopes he’s there. 

“Can you send my sister? Her name is Maddie.”

The intern nods and is out the door in a second. 

Maddie is a bit of a mess by the time she gets to the room. It reminds him of himself after she’d been kidnapped by Doug. Buck had lost his mind with worry during that time. 

She hugs him tightly. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers, her own eyes misty with emotion. 

The term “broken heart syndrome” plays over in his head. 

He’s not so sure he is okay.

Eddie comes in later, long after Buck is sure that Eddie would’ve gone home. Maddie’s just left to grab a coffee, and Eddie worms his way into the room before Buck even notices the door opened. 

Buck can’t help but gasp at the sight of him. His hair is tossed like he’s been pulling on it and his eyes are rimmed red. He’s been crying, that much is obvious.

“Eddie,” Buck whispers as his friend approaches him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Eddie freezes just a foot away from him. He snorts and shakes his head.

“Am  _ I _ okay?” Eddie asks. “It’s you that we’ve all been worried about. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because sinkholes can open up and rip your whole world away from you in seconds.”

Eddie smiles. “Your whole world?”

Buck’s breath catches in his throat. “Or at least a great big part of it,” he says. It feels good to be talking to Eddie again, but it hurts just as much.

“Eddie—”

“Buck—”

The two of them cut each other off.

“Buck, I owe you an apology,” Eddie says quickly. 

“No, you don’t,” Buck mutters. “I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that—”

“Then how? It’s good that you told me.” Eddie reaches for his hand and Buck lets him take it. 

They stay silent for a moment. 

Buck isn’t so sure about Eddie, but he can only stand that for so long. Before, there were days in which all they needed from each other was the silent support, but right now, Buck needed him to speak.

“Stress-induced cardiomyopathy,” Buck says, pulling his hand from Eddie’s and looking away. “That’s what this all did to me.”

Eddie looks down at his hand, still open from where he was holding Buck’s moments ago.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Eddie says earnestly. “I was just…”

“Hurting too?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s the thing, Eds. I know that I hurt you, too. I’m not trying to act like I’m not some part to blame for whatever's happened between us, but I’m reaching out here. I’ve been reaching out and I keep getting shut down.”

Eddie sighs and rubs his hand across his face. “I know. I was just so caught up in myself that I couldn’t see what it was doing to you. I’m—” He reaches forward and rests his hand on Buck’s arm. “I don’t think I knew how much I relied on you until I couldn’t reach out to you anymore. I couldn’t talk to you and I was taking the lawsuit like it was a personal attack even though I know it wasn’t.”

“I’ve been angry at a lot of things lately,” Eddie goes on. “And those things you said in the station—” 

Buck’s breathing hitches.

“— I feel them, too,” Eddie exhales. The man closes his eyes and takes another deep breath. “I… I love you, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes meet Eddie’s then. 

“When I don’t have you at my side, I feel incomplete, so when I couldn’t reach out to you, it made me even angrier. By the time you came back, I was so angry that I couldn’t recognize myself or the path I was leading myself down. I— I don’t think I ignored you because I was mad at you. I think I did it because I was mad at myself. I felt like I wasn’t good enough, like it was Shannon leaving all over again. And the bigger a hole I dug, the harder it was to try and get out.

“I want you by my side, man. I want to be by yours. You asked me what you needed to do to fix us, and I only have two requests.”

“Anything,” Buck says all too fast. 

“Don’t do it again,” Eddie pleads. “Don’t leave me again, and please, please, forgive me. I never meant to—”

Buck raises his hand then, pressing it to Eddie’s cheek. Eddie places his own hand over it.

“I do,” Buck says. “I do and I promise, as long as you can forgive me, too. I never meant to hurt you either. I know that I did, but I had no idea how much this affected you. We just— we need to be better at communicating. We can’t hide what’s going on from each other.”

Eddie’s head bobs up and down quickly. His eyes slip close as he leans his face heavier into Buck’s hand. “Of course,” he says quickly. “Of course.”

They stay like that for a minute, but this time the silence is welcome. 

Buck eventually moves his hand to the back of Eddie’s neck.

“You love me, huh?” Buck asks.

Eddie feels a lump form in his throat. He nods. 

“You sure? I’m not a man that loves lightly,” Buck whispers. “If I’m with you, I’m all in.”

“I’m all in, too,” Eddie replies easily. 

And that’s all that Buck needs to hear. It’s like the words fill a void in his heart because breathing is suddenly easier. A wave of calm rushes over him that makes him feel content and lifts the weight he feels like he’s been bearing for days. 

He’s crying again, and Eddie startles. 

“Hey, Buck, what’s wrong?” He stands up and looks at his heart monitor. “Should I get a doctor or—”

“Eds,” Buck says calmly. “Slow down.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and nods. “What do you need?” 

Buck laughs despite his tears. “Can you just—” He swallows back a sob. “Can you just hold me for now?”

It’s not practical with such a small bed, but Eddie climbs onto it. His butt isn’t even on the mattress all of the way and the upper rail of the bed digs uncomfortably into his back, but Buck curls into his chest immediately. 

It’s uncomfortable, but it feels right, and it only takes a second for Eddie to decide that he’s never letting go of Buck again.

**Author's Note:**

> Special Thanks to my beta reader: [Aria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyShipSailsHere/pseuds/MyShipSailsHere)
> 
>  ~~did somebody say projecting onto bUCK AGAIN?~~  
>  So, believe it or not, this fic idea has been sitting with me since October, so I'm very happy to have finally finished it. It was actually really cathartic for me to write. I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos, as they always encourage me to write more! If you feel I missed some necessary story tags, or have suggestions for others to help find this fic, please let me know what it is I should add.


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